The Mummy's Curse
by downton-gabby
Summary: Post S03. George Herbert of Carnarvon visits Downton. Strange things start happening. Thomas saves Jimmy (again).
1. Prologue

**First fanfic, yay! Anyways, I'm really excited to see where this story goes. I know the story isn't completely accurate (the Earl of Carnarvon lived in Highclere Castle at this time) but I really wanted a new and exciting plot. Also, this prologue is extremely short- it's just a way for me to dip my feet into fanfiction. That's all; thanks for reading!**

* * *

While everyone else in Downton was fast asleep, Thomas was awake. He stood against the slightly open window in his room, smoking a cigarette as he watched the peach-colored sun slowly rise. This was the only time he had today to relax and contemplate- the Earl of Carnarvon would be visiting Lord and Lady Grantham for three days to show some of the artifacts he had found in Egypt. _All this mummy business is quite mysterious- I wonder if there's still some magic left in that tomb. _After a moment of pondering, Thomas shook his head and proceeded to rather violently extinguish his cigar in his ashtray. _There's no such thing as magic, or curses, or anything of that sort, _Thomas thought, hoping to reassure himself.

After he finished putting on his livery, he stood in front of his mirror and combed his thick, black hair. He ran through his duties in his head. _Serve breakfast to the family, wax the floors, polish the silver, wash the windows, serve lunch, receive the Earl, help move the artifacts, unpack his cases, dress him, serve dinner, serve after-dinner drinks. _He took one last, deep breath before opening his bedroom door and proceeding to start the day.


	2. Chapter 1

"I heard he breeds thoroughbreds for the races," Lady Mary said. It was lunchtime, and Thomas stood in the front of the room, hands behind his back, and eyes fixed straight ahead. Yet his his focus of attention was on the conversation at the table. He was curious to learn more about the Earl.

"He sounds like a fascinating man!" Lady Edith replied, obviously intrigued.

"He has a wife, Edith," Mary shot back.

"I never said he didn't! Besides, I'm not interested!"

"Oh sure..."

"Girls!" exclaimed Lady Grantham. "Not at the table!"

"I wonder if he even _knows _how to ride a horse," Mr. Branson snickered. "Most racehorse owners have never mounted a horse in their whole life."

"Well, we'll find out one way or another," Lord Grantham replied.

"Whatever do you mean, Papa?" Edith asked.

"We'll be going on a foxhunt tomorrow."

"I'm glad. I haven't smelled the country air for so long, and the poor horse groom must be going mad with all the yearlings," Mary cut in.

"That's his _job_, Mary," said Robert.

"I know. Still though, it _will _be refreshing. I've been dying to ride that new thoroughbred we received a few months ago."

"Now, now, Mary, the Earl has first pick at which horse he wants to ride. Besides, I highly doubt you could stay on that stallion for very long."

"I don't mean to be rude, but I think Mary could stay on that horse much longer than the Earl could," Tom replied, winking at Mary.

Thomas started to tune out at that point. He had no need to listen to the family bicker amongst themselves. All he had learned about the Earl was that he had dug up the tomb of some ancient Egyptian king, he was married, and he bred racehorses. _Nothing but trivia,_ Thomas thought. He glanced over at Carson, and Carson nodded in return. _Finally! _And he began to remove the dishes from the table.

After delivering the last of the dishes to the kitchen, Thomas slipped outside for a quick smoke.

"Jimmy! I wasn't aware you smoked!" he exclaimed when he saw the blond boy taking a drag.

"I ain't an aristocrat Mr. Barrow; I do what I please."

_Of course you do. _He decided to change the subject. "Have you heard anything 'bout the Earl?"

"Why, are ye hopin' to rub fancies with him?"

Thomas could feel himself turning red, from both anger and embarrassment. _Why does he think that I want to get with every man I lay eyes on? I'm not bloody Edith. _He took a deep breath, debating what to say, when Jimmy cut in.

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me. Friends don't treat each other like that. I'm just nervous about serving a man with such a title,"

"He's got the same title as Lord Grantham,"

"I know that. But he's very prestigious all around the world. What if I drop Mrs. Patmore's pudding on him?"

Thomas burst out laughing. He could just picture the Earl unceremoniously rubbing strawberries off of his trousers. "I'm sure nothing will happen, Jimmy," he said, still chuckling. Just then, O'Brien poked her head out the door. "His Lordship has arrived!" She told them, before running off inside. Both men quickly put out their cigarettes before hurrying inside.

* * *

Outside, the servants lined up, awaiting the Earl. Thomas stood stock-still. Beside him, Jimmy fidgeted nervously. Thomas nudged him sharply with his elbow.

"Ow!" Jimmy hissed.

"Hush! And stop moving around!" Thomas whispered. Just then, he heard the car roll up the gravel drive and stop in front of them. The car door opened, and out stepped Lord Carnarvon. He was a tall, slender man, with a wispy moustache.

"Lord Carnarvon! We are honored to have you here!" said Lord Grantham, shaking his hand. "These are my daughters Mary and Edith, and this is my wife, Cora," he continued, introducing his family.

_A handsome fellow, but it's obvious that he's into women- he's already flirting with Lady Mary. _He was snapped out of his thoughts when Lord Grantham led Lord Carnarvon over to the servants. "Since you have not brought a valet of your own, Lord Carnarvon, you may choose one of ours to fulfill your needs."

Thomas puffed out his chest, thinking for sure that the Earl would choose him as his valet. His jaw dropped at the Lord's reply.

"Thank you, Lord Grantham. This young chap will do fine," he said, pointing to Jimmy.

"Excellent choice. James will help you unpack." They then walked into the abbey, discussing the aristocratic affairs of each other's families.

Thomas turned to glare at Jimmy, and then stopped when he saw that the young footman was as white as a ghost. "Jimmy, you've served as valet to many people before. Lord Carnarvon is no different."

"Mr. Barrow, please don't laugh when I tell you the real reason I don't want to serve for the Earl."

"I won't; I promise. And please call me Thomas."

"Have you ever heard of The Mummy's Curse?"

"Jimmy..."

"They say from the moment that a pharaoh's tomb is opened, all who touch him or his treasure will be cursed, and condemned to the constant fear of death for the rest of their lives."

"Jimmy, that nonsense is nothing but a ghost story. Besides, you're just a valet for the lord for two nights; it's really not a big deal."

"I suppose you're right," said Jimmy, straightening his livery and swiftly grabbing two of the Lord's bags. Thomas rolled his eyes and followed suit, grabbing a small valise. As he walked inside, he felt a stir of uneasiness at the thought of keeping an ancient king and his treasure in Downton Abbey for three days. _You're just paranoid, Thomas._


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Lord Carnarvon, you really have outdone yourself! These artifacts are magnificent!" Exclaimed Lord Grantham as he eyed a small jug with a jackal's head carved on top.

"I can't say I fancy these quite as much as you do Robert; if it isn't Mr. Pamuk's dead body in Downton, it has to be an Egyptian king's. And right after dinner, too!" Replied the Dowager Countess, looking a little green at the sight of King Tutankhamen's mummified body. Thomas had to agree with her on that. The Earl had invited everyone, even the servants, to view his artifacts. The result was Alfred oohing and ahhing over the rather grotesque facts that the Earl kept spewing, while Carson and Mrs. Hughes tried to ignore the smell of decay. Thomas wanted to view the king's coffin, but Jimmy refused. _I'd rather be here with Jimmy then look at some dead aristocrat's gold, anyway. _As if reading his thoughts, Jimmy spoke up. "It's really quite amazing to think this boy was only 18 years old when he died, yet he was filthy rich!"

Thomas just rolled his eyes. "Yes, but he died at only 18. How's that for a life?"

"I suppose you're right on that one. I bet no one even loved him. It's better to spend your whole life in service and being loved than to have all the gold in Egypt and be hated by all your subjects."

Thomas raised one eyebrow and turned to look at him, but the boy had already turned to look at some photographs taken of the pyramids near Cairo. _Well that was strange, _Thomas thought to himself. _I've never heard him say anything that deep before._ His thoughts were interrupted by shouting.

"Mrs. Patmore! There's a fire in the kitchen!" Yelled Molesley, who tore into the library in a frenzy, almost knocking the Dowager Countess in the process. Mrs. Patmore and Daisy scrambled out of the library, and Carson stood up, looking a bit bewildered. He quickly turned to Thomas and Jimmy. "Well?! Help them!" He exclaimed. Thomas walked as fast as he could, practically dragging Jimmy along. Once they were out in the hall, and out of earshot of everyone else, Jimmy turned to face Thomas. "I'm telling you, it's the Mummy's Curse!"

"Jimmy, would you bloody stop with that nonsense already? There could be many different reasons that there's a fire in the kitchen!"

"But no one was even in the kitchen for a good hour!" Said Jimmy, pushing Thomas back against the wall.

"So you're saying that the fire just lit itself?!" Thomas shot back in reply, grabbing Jimmy's shoulders without realizing.

"Sometimes," Jimmy panted, out of breath, his face close up against Thomas' face "Sometimes, fires are lit when you least expect them to be."

Thomas gazed back at Jimmy. _Is he... coming on to me? _"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said, Thomas."

"But I don't understand what you me-" Thomas was interrupted as Jimmy grabbed his head and forcefully kissed him.

_Dear God! _A million thoughts buzzed through his head, all hushed by the intensity between the two men. Jimmy's soft lips brushed against Thomas' experienced pair as he pulled away.

"What are you two still doing out here?! The whole downstairs is completely smoked out!" Mrs. Patmore screeched. Thomas nearly wet his underpants, and he blushed. He turned to say something- _anything-_ to Jimmy, but the footman was pale.

"Jimmy? Are you alright?"

"Get away from me! That kiss didn't mean anything! Get away, get away, oh please Thomas, _get away_..." Jimmy sobbed.

_Oh God, what have I done? I've ruined my only friendship, and the man I love won't even look at me now! _Thomas stumbled down the stairs, past the thick smoke, and stumbled outside. He kept walking, refusing the urge to run, until he was near a small creek. He sat down on the grass beside it and shakily pulled a cigarette from his waistcoat. He tried to light it, but he was still too nervous to keep his hand still. Instead, he flopped down on the grass and tried to take a deep breath. _It wasn't even my fault that time. He's the one who grabbed me. _Thomas sat up and absent-mindedly picked a small flower, picking the petals from the center. _He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. _He stopped. _What the hell am I doing? I'm not a bloody pre-teen girl! I'm Thomas Barrow! _He stood up abruptly and dusted his pants off. "I won't stand for this foolishness. First thing tomorrow, I'm going to ask him if he loves me. Yes, that's what I'll do," he muttered. He started off towards the house, but didn't even make it twenty meters before tripping over a huge log and landing face first against solid rock. "Damn it! _Ow, _God!" He exclaimed. He slowly stood up and examined himself. A bloody knee and most likely a grubby, cut-up face. _Where did that bloody log even come from? _He wondered. _I swear I would have noticed it if it had been there before. _A shiver ran up his spine, and he took off towards Downton, hoping to make it there before he became victim to anymore incidents.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

As Thomas approached the house, he noticed smoke streaming from the servants' entrance. He held his breath as he quickly walked through the dining area and up the stairs to his room. He sat on his small cot, the springs squeaking in protest. _What the bloody hell happened back there? Could it be? Does Jimmy...? _He shook his head, as if trying to shake the thoughts from his head. _Maybe I was imagining it. Maybe it was a dare from Alfred. _Feeling more confused every second, he decided to take his mind off the day's accidents by cleaning himself up. Standing in front of his mirror, he noticed that his encounter with the log had opened up the old wounds on his face. His mind drifted back to that day at the fair.

* * *

_Thomas heard boisterous laughing behind him, and turned around to see a rather tipsy Jimmy half on his feet, half falling down, chugging yet another drink._

_ "I got' a go take a piss," Jimmy slurred to his newfound "mates"._

_ Thomas rolled his eyes, pretending to not care about the irresponsible footman, but found himself wracked with worry. After Jimmy stumbled out of the fairgrounds, Thomas started to follow him. _I'm not stalking him, _Thomas assured himself. _I'm just looking out for him, in case he falls in a ditch or something. That's what co workers do, right? They look out for each other. _His thoughts were interrupted as he had to concentrate on where he placed his feet, as the shrubbery grew thicker. _Where the hell could Jimmy have gone? He must _really _be drunk. _He heard shouting further in front of him. Speeding up into a run, he emerged into a clearing under a bridge, to see two men of the losing side of "tug of war". They had pushed Jimmy against the brick, and were searching his pockets for cash._

_ The last thing Thomas remembers is having a rush of adrenaline, much like the feeling that mothers get when they see their babies in peril. He remembers that despite everything Jimmy has done to him, he must protect him at all costs. He remembers shouting, fists, blood, Dr. Clarkson and Jimmy standing over him, and waking up in his bed._

* * *

Remembering that day made his heart ache, as if the wounds on it had been reopened as well. He splashed some water on his face and his knee, and changed his livery. Hoping that most of the smoke was gone, he proceeded downstairs.

* * *

Thomas awoke the next day to sunlight streaming into his room, shining right into his eyes. _A good day for His Lordship's foxhunt, I suppose, _he thought. Swiftly changing into his livery, he ran out the door and down the stairs, composing himself for the breakfast table. He saw Jimmy glance up to meet his gaze, and then quickly turn away, turning as red as one of Mrs. Patmore's tomatoes. Thomas immediately felt hot and uncomfortable in his stiff livery. Luckily, Carson walked in just then. "James, you're needed with the earl," he ordered. Jimmy rushed out of the dining area, sparing Thomas the awkwardness of trying to confront him. For now.

* * *

Thomas stood stiffly as he watched the family mount their steeds, one by one. Sure enough, the earl had chosen the young thoroughbred; he couldn't have been more than three or four years old. He was a blood bay color, with an impressive build.

Thomas knew a thing or two about horses, since his father had owned a few drafts to transport the clocks that he built. He never had much interest for equines, but many of his lessons had been taught by them. And he knew that a horse could know every secret you held in your dirty little mind, from the moment you mounted one. They tested your skill and they tested your patience. And he knew that the Earl of Carnarvon's mount was no different.

It was immediately obvious that Branson had been right; all the horses he had bred, all the knowledge he had of them, and every penny he had earned from their winnings could not change the fact that he was an absolute horrid rider. As much as he despised Lady Mary, and as much as he despised when she was right, Thomas despised cocky noblemen more.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by an angry Carson barking in his ear. "Mr. Barrow! Do as you're told!" He yelled. Thomas picked up his drink tray with the utmost elegance and proceeded to start serving small glasses of champagne to the riders. At one point, he looked away to make sure everyone had a glass. And that's when it happened.

Witnesses would later tell him what actually happened. But here's how the next 30 seconds happened, according to Thomas.

_"Would you like a drink, m'lady?" Thomas asked Lady Rose, holding the drink tray above his head._

_ "Yes indeed, Mr. Barrow. Thank you," she replied._

_ Thomas held back a smile. Lady Rose was his favorite member of the family. She reminded him so much of Lady Sybil. Not just her liberal views and her love for being wild, but also her knack for having class toward people outside of _her _class._

_ "WOAH!" A man shouted from further away. Thomas didn't have time to make sense of who had shouted it; all he had time to do was glance up to see a tall, brown animal coming straight for him. It knocked into him with incredible force, and the last thing he saw was the horse falling on top of him as he hit the hard ground._


End file.
